


Five Objects The Weasel Found

by strifechaos



Category: The Lost Room
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 22:38:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strifechaos/pseuds/strifechaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five Objects that bring Howard towards something he didn't know he was looking for. Spoilers for the mini-series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Objects The Weasel Found

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mneiai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mneiai/gifts).



**Five Objects The Weasel Found**   


  


  


  


-0-

  


  


  


**the Flashlight**

  


  


  


"Ow, jesus, watch where you're swinging that thing!" Howard rubbed at his shin, glaring at Joe, the detective shot him a slightly apologetic look and switched the Flashlight from his left to his right hand.

  


  


  


"So you can see through anything with the flashlight?"

  


  


  


Before he could answer, Joe had flicked the switch on, flashing the ground in front of him with light. The ground flickered beneath the beam of light, shifting from view to reveal the ground about a foot down.

  


  


  


"Only a very short distance, but yeah you effectively got x-ray vision."

  


  


  


"I wonder if it . . . " Joe whipped the Flashlight around so that the beam hit Howard. Howard froze and his hands shot down to cover his groin. Unamused, he glared frostily at Joe. Joe flushed, handsome face turning a pretty pink and jerked his head around so that his gaze was pointed away from Howard. 

  


  


  


He immediately flicked the Flashlight off and cleared his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other clearly telegraphing unease. "Uh, I guess it doesn't work on people then."

  


  


  


"First with making me strip off my boxers, now with the lingering x-ray vision--I'm beginning to get suspicious here that you're trying to get me naked, Miller. For nefarious purposes."

  


  


  


Joe's cheeks turned hot cherry red.

  


  


  


  


-0-

  


  


  


**the Soap Wrapper**

  


**   
**

  


"So what's the Soap Wrapper do?"

  


  


  


"You don't want to know."

  


  


  


"Montague, I asked you a question. What does it do?"

  


  


  


"It won't help you get your daughter back."

  


  


  


"How do you know that, how could you possibly know that? Do I need to remind you what'll happen if you piss me off again? Just tell me what the Object does, Montague."

  


  


  


"Fine! Fine, no need to get your panties in a bunch. Sheesh." Howard brushed a hand down the front of his clothing, dusting imaginary dust away as  a distraction to buffer himself from the detective's tetchy attitude. "It's just that you won't like it."

  


  


  


Joe arched an impatient eyebrow, and stared.

  


  


  


"The Soap Wrapper increases potency." Howard avoided eye contact but wasn't able to stop the faint blush that covered his face.

  


  


  


"Potency of ... what?" Howard gaped, his eyebrows crawled towards his hairline. When Joe started to give him a menacing look he swallowed roughly before answering.

  


  


  


"Of you're . . ." Howard gestured toward the crotch of Joe's jeans, at Joe's incredulous look he continued. "Obviously not something you'd pick up on but the couple in question had certain . . . limitations . . .  that made their eventual pregnancy highly suspicious."

  


  


  


The unrelenting curiosity that had no doubt served the other man so well as a detective, was starting to irritate Howard. The man was like a dog with a bone. "How so?"

  


  


  


The Weasel scrunched up his face and tried to dodge the question. "It doesn't matter, this Object won't help you in you're little quest." He started to walk away, hoping Joe would drop the subject.

  


  


  


"Hold it." Howard let out a sigh, shoulders slumping. He should have known better.

  


  


  


"They were two dudes."

  


  


  


"What?"

  


  


  


"The reason that it was suspicious was because the Object holder was a man, and so was the person he was fucking."

  


  


  


"That's not possible. Men can't have babies."

  


  


  


Howard held his hands out in a 'what're you gonna do' gesture. "Yeah, well, keys aren't supposed to be portals to _any_ door you'd like either."

  


  


  


Joe just shook his head, clearly flabbergasted. Howard just shrugged and started to push the taller man towards the car, if they stayed stationary any longer he'd no doubt get more questions.

  


  


  


Howard wouldn't have thought of the Soap Wrapper again if not for Joe's final comment.

  


  


  


"So if I had the Soap Wrapper and you and me were to . . . we'd end up with a baby?"

  


  


  


Howard tripped over his feet and stumbled a few steps, he stopped and pointed at Joe and then back at himself, as if to check that there wasn't another pair Joe could be referring to. "Uh, you and me?"

  


  


  


Joe grinned suddenly, and Howard's breath caught funny as the corners of Joe's mouth twitched upward.

  


  


  


"Anna always did want a brother . . ."

  


  


  


-0-

  


  


  


**the Shot Glass**

  


  


  


"What are _you_ doing here?"

  


  


  


Blearily, Howard looks up from his shot. He shakes his head and blinks, maybe the Objects have gotten to him because there's no way that that's . . .

  


  


  


"Joe?"

  


  


  


"Montague, what are you up to?" 

  


  


  


The tone was angry and gruff but Howard ignores the question, it was never a good idea to talk to yourself when you in bars, other people tended to get freaked. He picked up the drink and took a fortifying swig. If he was hallucinating than he was gonna need a lot more alcohol.

  


  


  


His illusion took a hold of his shoulder and bodily removed him from his bar stool. Shot Glass held tightly in his hand, he let 'Joe' lead him from his perch to the closet empty booth.

  


  


  


"What is this, Montague?"

  


  


  


Howard shrugged. 'Joe' pounded his fist into the table, rattling the Shot Glass, it strikes Howard that his illusion isn't quite as illusionary as he'd thought. It's a pity, there's a laundry list of things he'd like to do with one of an illusionary Detective Joe Miller.

  


  


  


"H-how'd you find me here, Joe? You following me, now?" 

  


  


  


Joe scoffed. "I've got better things to do with my time then follow you around all day. Kang pointed me here, said there was something here I'd need to find Anna."

  


  


  


Howard growled. "No Object here's gonna help you, Joe."

  


  


  


Joe's made a face. "Yeah, I'm beginning to see that. What've you got there?"

  


  


  


Howard pulled his glass closer to his chest. "T-the Shot Glass doesn't help bring people b-back." Joe threw him an impatient look and Howard explained, a tinge of sadness coloring his tone. "It's s-suppose to help you find the person you're . . . well, n-not anything that'll help you get back your daughter."

  


  


  


"The person you'll what?" Joe prodded.

  


  


  


"You drink from the shot, and it replenishes itself."

  


  


  


Joe cocked an eyebrow, chin tilted down towards his chest. "Yeah, so? You have an endless supply of booze, how is that useful, barring it belonging to an alcoholic?"

  


  


  


Howard scrunched up his features in annoyance, the detective wasn't getting it, and he hated to have to spell things out. Especially emotional things. Doubly so when it regarded his own emotions.

  


  


  


"They say it's supposed to fill up until you're put you in a situation where you can find your heart's desire. But you already know where Anna is, Joe, you won't be able to use the Shot Glass to retrieve her."

  


  


  


Joe slumped in his seat. He reached across the table and tried to bogart the Jack Daniels in the Object, only to lift the glass to his lips and find it bone dry.

  


  


  


  


  


-0-

  


  


  


**the Occupant**

  


  


  


"You're a difficult man to find, Montague." Joe hadn't expected for the smaller man to whip around, and jerked backward at the crazed look in his eyes. 

  


  


  


"Get the fuck away!"

  


  


  


Irritated and concerned, Joe ignored the demand and stepped closer. He reached out and grabbing Montague by the shoulder, turned the Weasel around to face him. His jaw dropped at what he saw and the smaller man flinched as if he'd been slapped.

  


  


  


"What the hell happened to you?"

  


  


  


"It's nothing. D'you come to return my car? Or should I call your old prescient up and report your grand theft auto, Detective?"

  


  


  


The comment made Joe smile for a brief second but the levity of Montague's comment didn't distract him from his own questions. "What'd you do to end up like this? When I left you weren't this roughed up, Montague."

  


  


  


Joe couldn't help but feel responsible for the man's deteriorated condition, the other man hadn't wanted to be left behind and apparently for good reason. 

  


  


  


"Kreutzfeld left standing orders for my bounty." Montague shrugged one shoulder, and winced at the pull on his sore muscles. "Some of Kreutzfeld's dogs are more rough than others, not a surprise since that crazy bastard isn't exactly a font of mercy."

  


  


  


"He's dead." Joe hadn't meant to say it, hadn't really thought about it since getting Anna back, but the words are passed his lips before he thinks to keep it to himself.

  


  


  


"How?" Howard asks, suspicious. Things aren't always as they seem, haven't been since he'd stumbled upon the Pen. The Objects tend to make every day situations, like dying, a tad blurrier than usual.

  


  


  


"The Room." Joe didn't want to think about Karl Kreutzfeld or his crazed attempt to resurrect his son from death. It was too close to his own desperation to save Anna. The pain of losing her, for even the briefest of time, had been an unbearable weight.

  


  


"I wanted to return these to you." Joe held out the keys to Montague's car. Howard scooped them up with a shaky hand, and clenched his hand into a fist, bringing it to his chest. 

  


  


"Thanks. So what's next on your quest?" Howard tried to play off like it's no big deal, but his guilt over resetting the guy's daughter's been haunting him. Howard hadn't expected the larger man to grin at him, eyes bright and happy.

  


  


"This is it, Montague. Just returning your keys, and I'm done with the Objects. I'm going home."

  


  


"Wait--what? What about Anna?" He ignored his own aches and pains and grabbed onto Joe's arm, frantic. "Did someone come by you with the Ice Bucket? Because you have to find her, Joe. Ignore the sensation of wanting to go home, we need to get your little girl back from the room!"

"I did it. She's home. I got my baby back."

"B-but how? When? D'you still have the Key?"

  


  


Joe shook his head. "Don't worry about it, she's home safe and that's all that matters."

  


  


"What about the Key, Joe? You said I could have it!"

  


  


"Yeah, about that." He paused for what was probably a few seconds but felt like a lifetime to Howard. "I gave it back."

  


  


"You gave it back?" He blinked. "To who? Why would you do that? You said--"

  


  


"Montague, I got rid of it, for good. I'm done. I did what I had to in order to save my daughter, that's all."

  


  


Howard shook his head, it didn't make sense. Nothing Joe did seemed to but it seemed to work out. Still. "B-b-but . . . "

  


  


"Thanks for the car, Montague. Get those bruises looked after, ok?" Joe rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing tight for a brief moment and then started to walk away. Howard's brain made a leap in what he knew.

"Did the Occupant save her?"

Joe froze. 

  


  


His entire body still as a statue for several breaths, then just as quickly, his shoulders slumped and he hung his head, Howard recognized the haunted look on this man, he'd seen it once before. It was the same as the one he'd seen when the Room had been accidentally reset on Anna.

  


  


"Yes." Joe's answer is barely above a whisper, Howard's ears have to strain to hear it and almost miss it entirely regardless. Howard's mind is such a whirl for what this means for his theories, he misses the absolutely crushed and pained inflection of Joe's answer.

  


  


"And? Where is he? Do you think he could--"

  


  


"He's gone." There's such a finality in the two words, Howard shivered. 

  


  


-0-

  


  


**the Rabbit Foot**

  


  


Howard felt a tickle on the back of his neck, a feeling that someone was watching him. Turning around to tell the guy to 'fuck off', instead he took a step backward as instead of a stranger, it was a man he recognized. Mind still playing catch up trying to figure out what the chances were that he'd run into Joe here, a park he didn't normally go to, at a time that was extremely unlike him, he just blinked as Joe stepped up to him and gestured downward at his dog.

  


  


"_You_ have a dog?" Howard rolled his eyes, clutching the leash a tad tighter in his hand, and offering the Occupant an unconcerned shrugged. Rowdy had been an old acquisition, long before he'd left his position at the university. The aging yellow lab was one of the few remaining good things he had left from that time in his life.

  


  


"Wasn't hatched, y'know." Joe rolled his eyes to the side as if to say "well, no shit" but didn't comment further. Howard watched silently as Joe knelt down and held his hand out for Rowdy to sniff. When the dog butted Joe's hand eagerly, Joe's entire face lit up. He smiled widely and without care as he scratched Rowdy's ears, laughing when it lead to rapid tail wagging and consequently more pets. Howard was not jealous of his dog. Really.

  


  


"What brings you out to the park?"

  


  


Joe looked up from Rowdy's square head and one hand still scritching the dog's ear, the other jerked behind him to in the direction of a swing set twenty feet back.

  


  


"Anna has a playdate with a friend from school." Rowdy's tongue was lolling outside his muzzle, eyes bright with pleasure, he made a low grunt of satisfaction when Joe's square fingers found a particularly good spot to scratch.

  


  


Joe just grinned and ran his hand down the dog's back a few times.

  


  


"I could ask the same of you. This doesn't seem like you're type of . . . scene." Joe paused near the end, as if trying to find the least offensive terminology for saying it was suspicious to run into him today.

  


  


"The whole is more than the sum of its parts." Joe arched an eyebrow, impressed despite himself.

  


  


"You're quoting me Aristotle now?"  Howard shrugged his shoulders again in a smooth motion, like it was no big deal that he was quoting a Greek philosopher. He didn't often get the chance after he'd left the academic world, small time thugs weren't often impressed with a leader that had a witty mouth or the smarts to back them up. Howard ignored the warm flutter of pleasure that filled his stomach over Joe recognizing the philosopher's words. He tells himself that it was a well-known line and not something to cause any sort of arousal. So Joe Miller knew more than you're average criminal, that was a given, he wouldn't have kept the Key for as long (or as successfully) as he had if he'd been unintelligent. Howard had always had a thing for smart guys though. Especially if they were halfway competent. And well, the guy liked _dogs_.

  


  


As if his thoughts had alerted the beast, Rowdy whined, Joe's hands had fallen inattentive as he'd paused to take in Howard's next words. Since Howard didn't reply Joe tries a different tactic.

"So this is where the Weasel comes when he's not hunting down Objects?" Joe prodded in jest, standing up much to Rowdy's grumbling displeasure.

"Not exactly." Howard unsuccessfully tried to hide his unease, he jammed the hand that wasn't holding Rowdy's leash into his leather jacket pocket. "Rowdy needed a walk, and I needed to test a theory so . . ."

  


  


Joe's easy going manner melted away into what Howard had taken to calling his Serious Business Face.

  


  


"What type of theory?" His voice was wary and tense, he shot a look over his shoulder at his daughter, reassuring himself that she was still there. Howard noticed the blonde girl gave a big wave at her dad when she caught him looking. Joe smiled and waved back before turning his full attention on Howard.

  


  


"Nothing like the Prime Object Theory." Howard clarified, sensing the mounting tension building between them. "Just testing out the Rabbit Foot."

  


The stress eased in Joe's shoulders and he still looked cautious but also intrigued. "What's the Rabbit Foot do?"

  


  


"So far, it doesn't seem to have any similar properties to the other Objects. Other than taking Rowdy and me to a different park than our usual."

  


  


"Maybe it affected you're luck." Howard thinks it must have, because he's found the detective in an unusually chipper and playful mood today. Still he doesn't want to let on how much he's enjoying Joe's good mood. "That's what they're supposed to do, isn't it?"

  


  


"A traditional, plain non-Object rabbit foot, yes. An Object doesn't act like a similar object, necessarily."

  


  


"I suppose that's true, Howard, but want me to let you in on a little secret?"

  


Howard nods rapidly, feeling silly only after he does it but he chides the part of him that wants to blush at his eagerness to know a secret from the Occupant. Joe leans in until his lips are almost brushing Howard's ear lobe, hot breath puffing against his cheek.

  


  


"I think it improved mine today."

  


  


Before Howard finds a way to untie his tongue, Joe's little girl has left the swing set and is clutching at her dad's hand, peeping shyly out from behind Joe's side, her eyes fastened on Rowdy. Anna looked up at Howard and he feels his resolve weakening like a house of cards, he stifles the uncomfortable feeling that rose up at her begging look, very aware that Joe is watching the nonverbal interactions between them like a hawk.

  


  


"Y-you can pet'im if you want." Anna's face lights up like her dad's, and before he's able to take his next breath the eight-year old is on the ground, petting Rowdy, running her fingers through his golden hair and talking to him.

  


  


Joe's eyes are glued on Anna and Rowdy but his smile is even wider and so genuine, and thirty seconds pass before the detective looks up and shoots Howard a grateful smile, that Howard feels a spark of pleasure at being responsible for.

-0-

**the End**

  


**   
**


End file.
